Broken Pieces
by Nikki-Chaos
Summary: She's been plagued with nightmares for as long as she can remember. But are they nightmares or something a little more intimate. Only one person can help her figure that out and that's the man who has featured in each and every nightmare, Klaus...Rated M for future themes and the language. Please give this fic a chance.


**Disclaimer** - I do not own Vampire Diaries. All I own is the plot and original character(s)

**~Broken Pieces~**

The air tasted harsh and dead in the back of the young brunettes throat as she walks down the street. Her long black trench coat pulled tightly across her chest to try and protect herself from the harsh coldness seeping into her skin from the late winter night that had settled over Boston. Her whiskey coloured eyes were trailing the alley walks and walkways in front of her – each gaze and twitch of her eyes calculated and precise so that nothing and no one crept up on her without her knowledge. A headache thrummed at the edges of her mind as she tried to reign in the barrage of conversations assaulting her from either side – some harsh, some lustful and others just plain happy so happy that the brunette was tempted to slam her fist into the face of anyone who walked past her.

With her head high and her steps brisk and fast she walks down the street that brings her to her neighbourhood and picks up her pace as her shitty apartment complex grows nearer. Normally she dreads each night she has to return to this piece of shit house but tonight she can't wait to revel in the peace and solitude it provides her from the torment of the day she has just endured. She practically runs up the steps leading into the apartments the main door once holding an electronic keypad that you had to have an access code to work but the little piece of technology had fallen prey to vandalism long before the brunette had moved into the block. Her steps never falter from the brisk pace she set them in as she runs up the stairs leading to her floor and over to her apartment door. She pulls the keys out of her pocket and inserts them in the key and with a quick flick of her wrist unlocks the only way the door stays locked and pulls the key out before pushing on the wood door allowing her access to the dingy place she calls home.

Without turning any lights on she pivots on her feet once she's closed the door and locks back up and places the other four locks – which can be only locked from the inside – into their homes making it almost impossible for anyone to enter the apartment. She reaches her right hand out and turns on the small light and lets out a harsh sigh of relief as she sees the place untouched and left in the same disarray that she had placed it in before she left this morning. She shrugs out of her trench coat and throws it over the nearest chair as she looks at her phone to see she has four voicemails waiting for her to listen to. She presses the small button and waits as the dreaded woman drones through the usual shit she has to do before the messages meet the brunette's ears. The voice that comes over the small speaker stops the woman in her steps and all of her focus to become trained on the voice.

"Ava I know you are there," a harsh sighs comes over the speakers and Ava can almost imagine the speaker running a stressed hand through his raven hair before he speaks again "Ava just ring me back will you. We have a problem and it involves our, oh so lovely younger brother."

The call ends and Ava listens as the other three messages follow the same routine, the male speaker pleading with her to ring him and at least let him know that she is still alive and out there somewhere. But Ava can't find it in her heart to pick up the phone and return the calls and instead reaches out a tanned and shaky finger and presses the delete button before turning and walking over to where her small TV sits and turns it on placing the volume on high – the volume being enough to cause anyone a headache but bringing Ava a sense of peace – before walking towards the pathetic excuse of a kitchen. The voice from the voicemails ringing in her ears causing Ava to let out a shrewd curse underneath her breath as she slams her fist into the nearest wooden cupboard – the pain from the action not registering as she watches as her hands spread with redness and swells up to a size that isn't natural yet to Ava is a rare occurrence. The voice that had caused such a rise in her anger was the voice of her oldest brother whom she hadn't seen for the better part of thirty years. She knew with wry amusement that he would find her phone number somehow no matter how hard she had worked to conceal it – It was what he did best, find people who didn't want to be found, or were spending a good amount of time and energy avoiding him.

Shaking her head of the dark thoughts slowly creeping in at the corners she heads over to the fridge and grabs her last remaining bottle of bourbon before shutting the refrigerator door and opening up the cupboard above her head to grab a glass. As she pours the bourbon into the glass she begins to wonder as to what her brother would be ringing her for, especially with it being linked to their younger brother. The last time he called on her for help it was when their younger brother had gone off the rails, completely and had earned himself quite the nickname and reputation.

A deep and heavy sigh leaves her red lips tinged with bourbon as she looks out over the Boston night, her eyes glazed over as memories of her brothers flood her mind, reminding her of better times before a certain someone got in the way and the three of them went their different ways. Only seeing each other here and there, and each time that happened they either tried to kill each other or caused some kind of problem. Shaking her head and feeling a sense of trepidation settle itself in her veins she turns on her feet and looks around her apartment before walking with a steady clip towards her small bedroom.

Once inside she grabs one of her duffle bags setting it on the bed before grabbing big handfuls of clothes from inside her wardrobe throwing them inside her bag not even bothering at what state they land in. After packing up a good portion of her belongings and changing into another outfit Ava heads to the kitchen with her duffle bag slung over her shoulder and turns on the gas of the cooker. After spending a good five minutes looking for where she threw her phone she heads towards the door, her nose scrunched up from the smell of gas hitting her nose. As she opens the door she reaches into the pocket and pulls out a box of matches. She lights one throwing it behind her as she speed walks out of the apartment block and into the night air.

As she walks towards Boston airport she pulls out her phone and brings up the number she needs, one that hasn't changed since he gave her it over 10 years ago. She types in a text and presses send before turning of her phone not wanting to see or even hear the response as her whole mind screams at her that this is the worst plan she has ever had, whilst her body screams at her to stop walking and sleep. Something she's been stolen of ever since she was plagued with nightmares that feel real, so real that sometimes she wakes up with bruises or makes in the exact same place they were in her dreams.

As Boston Airport looms ahead of her she begins to steel herself, her emotions locking themselves away in little steel boxes and being placed on shelves not to be opened for a while.

"Mystic Falls, here I come" she mutters to the darkness before her eyes darken and a smirk crosses her face.

**~Broken Pieces~**

****So a new vamp diaries fic that isn't Daroline. This should be fun.

Anyway please give it a chance and any comments or feedback you have please give me them. Please, no matter if you think the story is shit. Just tell me.

BTW this is Un beata'd so all mistakes are mine. If you see any please point them out.

Review and let me know what you think.

Nikki

x


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